Seven Deadly Sins
by gilgameshforeternity
Summary: Drabbles based around the seven deadly sins featuring Dean and Castiel. Ratings will vary from chapter.
1. Greed

**(A/N) **I'm really trying to get back into writting (I've had some major writers block) so I'm going to be doing a few fic challenges. This is the first one of drabbles based around the 7 deadly sins. First up;

_Greed_

* * *

Dean liked women, he liked cold beer and singing to the classics off tune just to annoy his brother. He gave a lot to hunting, blood, sweat, tears and most importantly he gave his time for hunting. Years slipped away and if he had to think back on his life it was only in the linear context of cases. Two cases ago, three, or the one case where they were stuck in a barn strung up like pigs. Though Dean couldn't complain, they ate fast food and stayed in cheap motels and got to kill a few demons along the way, everything was fine until he got mauled to death.

Then everything slipped through his fingers, his world, his sense of time and hope seemed like a thing of the past until he was saved. Crawling up from his own grave might have been poetic if he hadn't swallowed some dirt along the way and his shoulder hadn't been aching. Hours he travelled, looking for Sammy and Bobby and it wouldn't stop, the hand burned into his skin was healed but it festered like a fresh wound.

When that trench coat wearing, raspy voice, righteous angel finally showed his face Dean could _feel_ the relief wash over him. Something so simple as being in the angel's presence quelled what lingered in his arm and dissolved it into blessed numbness instead of built up anxiety. He had to keep it a secret, a weakness like that couldn't surface on his face or manifest in some habit, it just couldn't.

If he'd noticed when it began Dean would have nipped it in the bud, but sometimes when it was quiet and Sam was sleeping he'd rub at mark on his shoulder and it would feel like someone was watching him. Dean started wasting more time on Castiel, listening to him, taking his words into consideration, calling to him and the ache came and went. Cas had officially tossed a wrench into Sam and his lifelong road trip.

Dean needed more of that feeling, he needed more time with Cas, because maybe, just maybe, if the angel lingered longer, spoke a bit softer the feeling would stay. So Dean struck up a deal with himself, he couldn't be greedy, but it was hard when Cas practically showed up at his beck and call.

At night, only at night because out there in the woods near Bobby's house where he was 'taking a walk' it smelled like rain and it mixed perfectly with scent of ozone and clouds when Cas came and went. Whether the old angel caught on or not, Dean wasn't too sure, just that it got easier to whisper his name and then he would be there, stoic and quiet and looking just a bit confused as to why they had to meet in the forest.

So Dean had to talk, make it look like he was interested in affair of angel's, like he was interested in Cas' deadpan description of certain angels and when they ran out of things to say they sat in awkward silence. Till Dean finally said it, till he admitted that he'd lied, he hadn't been looking for information; he didn't want to 'string' the angel along and confessed to the ache in his shoulder. Of course, Cas being Cas, offered to take it away, he offered to heal and cleanse Dean's body of the mark. To which Dean replied;

"No."

If Cas was surprised by his answer he didn't show it, but the slightest tilt of his head said he was curious.

"I'm not gonna sit here and say I understand it or whine like some after school special, but it feels better when you're around."

He reached out and grasped the angel's hand, the one that'd gripped him tight and raised him from perdition and placed it on his shoulder and it was like the mark never existed. Dean leaned in close and felt the angel tense then relax when he rested his head on the other's shoulder.

"Dean, all you had to do was say so."

Really, Dean thinks, Cas couldn't be more oblivious to the strict matters of Dean's pride and professionalism as a hunter and he just laughed and shook his head. Neither talked much after that till Cas whispered he was being called away and Dean let him go, the air smelled fresh and light and he walked back to Bobby's under a waxing moon.

In the days afterwards, and thankfully not hours his shoulder felt incredible and even though he didn't need to call Cas back out to the forest he did anyway because he couldn't get enough of the angel. Dean even let him ask questions, like "What does tofu taste like?" and "What's a lead zeppelin?". Cas never seemed tired or annoyed about their meetings so Dean didn't stop calling, he didn't stop eating up the angel's time and Cas didn't seem to care.


	2. Gluttony

**(A/N) **T for this chapter, mentions of blood and physical harm.

_Gluttony_

* * *

Sometimes he wants to ask Cas, when the angel looks like his attention is drifting upwards, if all the time he spends around Bobby, Sam and him is actually approved of and how much of it he's snuck away for. How many times had Cas gone against the other angel's orders just to see the group of them? The question gnaws at him and so he has to ask. But he doesn't like the answer.

"Many times Dean, I would rather leave it at that."

"Really, Cas? I can only imagine how many angels up there would like to snub us just so you won't sneak out past curfew."

Cas didn't exactly reply but he gave Dean a look, one the hunter didn't immediate recognize, only later would he realize it was one of fondness.

"I like to think that the reason is justification enough for the consequences."

Dean just snorts and shakes his head, an amused smile at the edge of his lips disappearing before he grabs a beer and Sam clatters into the room with news about the town and the case. It goes on like that, Cas would 'visit' and Dean would notice the angel gain a distant look more often and he knew the guy was being barked at to come home.

No skin off his back really, except that Cas started looking a bit worse for wear, tie askew sometimes, bags under his eyes- did angels even sleep? Weeks it went on till finally Dean saw, just a glimpse actually and it was in the bathroom mirror across the room, that there was blood on the back of Cas' coat. Nothing big but the spots were high on the man's back, like maybe where his wings would have been. Dean, the ever subtle man that he was, made up a reason for Sam to go out and when they were alone the questions spilled out.

"Cas are they hurting you? Why do you look so tired? Should you even be here right now?"

Silence from the angel. Not what he wanted to hear and Dean could see the conflicting emotions just barely surface on the angel's face. Something was going on and he wasn't going to stop until he got answers.

"Dean-"

"No, no Dean, yes or no, are they hurting you?"

A deep sigh, "I have said before, my reasons for being here far outweigh my fear of punishment."

"So they are hurting you, what are they doing?"

He has to get in close now, make sure Cas doesn't look anywhere but him and he can see the quiet pain of defeat ebb from his eyes as he gives in.

"They remove feathers from my wings; each indiscretion is represented by a taken feather."

"Those sick bastards, Cas you can't come around anymore if they're going to de-feather you like a chicken."

"Please Dean, it is not as bad as you're making it-"

"There's blood on your coat Cas!"

The angel stops, something like panic sweeps over his face and Dean wants to be inside the man's head, hear what he's thinking. He watches Cas walk to the mirror, it's nerve wrecking to see the man just stand there peering over his shoulder at the blood.

"I suppose, my wounds did not hold through the trip here."

"You suppose? Cas, let me see, I can help."

Instantly the angel goes still, his eyes a bit wider than before and it looks like he's not even breathing. He opens his mouth ready to say something though nothing comes out.

"Cas it's me, you know me, I can patch you up."

"Dean, an angel's wings are not something you can just 'patch up'."

"Won't know unless you try."

The angel gives Dean a withering glare and moves with reluctance away from the mirror unbuttoning his shirt as he goes. Dean has never, in the time that Cas has hung around them, seen the man take off his trench coat so when he shucks it _and_ his shirt off to bare his back he can only stand there, a bit stunned and a lot speechless. Cas is pale, but he's known that and with no warning the room is suddenly smaller as the angel's wings materialize. They're black, mixed with midnight blue and catch the lamp light just alone the edges of the feather making them look sharp and menacing. At least most of them do because when Dean finally sees it he swallows down his witty comment about black being slimming,

Cas shifts and his wings shiver under Dean's stare, near the base the feathers are matted, no longer smooth a sleek like the others, he can see the darker skin of the wing in little glimpses but it's enough to make his stomach drop.

"Cas," his voice is rough, "this is bit excessive isn't it?"

"For the Winchesters no."

"Come on, you make it sound like it's our fault," he wants to reach out, run a hand over Cas' wings but something like anger or annoyance keep him still.

"I meant that discipline is a more favorable alternative to never seeing you again."

"You're a glutton for punishment aren't you," Dean mutters and then hooks a hand into the angel's coat and physically drags him over to the messy bed that could only be Dean's.

Cas makes a noise as he's manhandled down to sit at the edge and Dean retrieves supplies from the duffle bag on the floor. They sit in silence and don't say anything even when Sam finally gets back, he just gives them a look and Cas grimaces when Dean just tells his brother to quit gawking and throw the bloody gauzes away for him.


	3. Wrath

**(A/N) **Gen for this chapter, guys kissing whut-

_Wrath_

* * *

Dean gets angry about a lot of things, like when Sam changes the radio station, or when a job goes wrong or when his favorite jacket gets covered in blood and guts and he has to sit there later cleaning the foul smelling fluids away. But there's one thing that makes Dean so angry he wants to punch a mirror, it's when Cas implies that Sam and he should be following the archangel's orders like good dogs. Cas never means to elicit these bouts of hate, but it does catch him off guard and he has to pause a moment to think of a defense or something to placate the hunter with. Usually it's just an apology.

It doesn't take a lot for Dean to realize when he gets so worked up that his fists are clenched and his jaw set tight in resentment for the high angels. He sees the way Cas' eyes flick to Sam, as if his brother will join in and gang up on the garrison captain. That little spark of doubt stops Dean, makes him take a step back, form sentences that don't include damning Castiel's superiors and relax the muscles in his hand. Needless to say it's happened a few times and if he could, he would reassure the angel in some way, just not touchy feely share your emotions moments was all.

He gets his chance days after a particularly bad round of guest appearances from both angels and demons, as if they had planned the week out and synchronized their watches and counted down on their calendars. Dean doesn't even bother to call Cas that night, just throws himself into the motel bed that creaks and burrows under the covers to sleep. It feels good for the most part, letting the tension in his shoulders melt into the mattress and listening to Sam putter around the room till sleep finally closes over him.

Everything feels like a blur, his dreams are disjointed and confusing till they even out and swim into focus. He _knows_he's dreaming because there can't be any other reason he'd sit at a lake like the entire world wasn't crawling with nightmares. The bench he's sitting on is new and he realizes it's because Cas is sitting next to him looking apprehensive, if that was even possible to see on the guy's face.

"Hello Dean."

Oh, formality, Cas must be wary of him and Dean sighs and hates himself a bit more.

"Hey Cas, how's it going?"

The angel nods stiffly, "Well, more demons fall every day."

"Tell me about it."

Dean sets the fishing rod down, leans back and, because it's his friggin dream, imagines a beer into his hand and takes a swig of it.

"How are you Dean?"

"Business is booming, everything must go, nothing left sort of pace."

"I...see."

He can't stop but chuckle, Cas doesn't get the reference and his amusement fades when he realizes Cas isn't going to ask the meaning because he's walking on eggshells at the moment.

"Listen, Cas, don't think you have to wait to be called to show up, I mean I'm not mad at you or anything..."

He trails off and grimaces because he isn't good at this sort of crap. Though the way Cas seems to relax gives him hope and he smiles. Cas tries and Dean bites back a laugh as the man twitches in his attempt. The angel gives up and Dean takes another drink content to sit and enjoy the company.

"Dean, I know your relationship with the other angels is...not good. I apologize for having to bring them up."

"No, Cas, there's no relationship to it, I want nothing to do with them. I don't want those bastards suddenly stepping into my life and acting like entitled pricks trying to order Sammy and me around."

"I realize it can be difficult to adjust to but-"

"There's no 'but' Cas-" he grips the bottle a little tighter and raises his voices, "if it wasn't for you Cas I'd be trying to stake every one of those feather heads. Just because they decided now of all times to show up doesn't mean I'll roll over and play nice. I'm sick of-"

Dean is just getting his stride, the anger boiling in his stomach when Cas actually _huffs_and leans forward and...and kisses him. Everything sort of freezes, the ripples on the lake, the droplets sliding down the beer bottle and the first thing Dean thinks is Cas could really improve on his form. The angel leans back, stiff and anxious and clears his throat.

"I-I've seen many humans perform this action, it seems to calm the receiver down, I-"

"Cas," Dean cuts him off quickly, "don't. I get it; I can be annoying so you needed a way to shut me up."

Cas gives him an incredulous look, "When you put it like that Dean I sound tired of you."

"Nah, you couldn't be as much as you come around."

Dean means for the statement to be light, except he falls head first into the trap he's unwittingly laid for himself. Cas stares at him, searching and leaning just a bit closer.

"I enjoy your company greatly Dean."

The air between them feels thicker and Dean's forgotten he's got a beer warming in his hand.

"Yeah, likewise."

"Dean, while I know you are not worked up at the moment, might I try that again."

"I might just get worked up in a minute and yes, come here."

He leans forward as well, pressing his lips to Cas' hesitant ones and wonders just when he'd grown so fond of the angel. The kiss, or kisses because he presses two more just for good measure to Cas' lips, are chaste because honestly, getting involved with a supernatural being hadn't exactly been on his to do list, let alone a male one. When he sits back and Cas is still hovering somewhere near the middle he gives a lopsided smile.

"Thanks, for checking up on me that is."

"Of course Dean."

They stare at each other, silence stroking over the minutes to slow the time when Dean all but frowns when Cas' eyes flick skyward.

"I am being-"

"Go. I'm good here."

Cas nods and in the blink of an eye he's gone, the world created by Cas shreds apart and Dean wakes up with a gasp.


	4. Sloth

**(A/N) **Gen for this chapter, guys kissing woooo

_Sloth_

* * *

break. A friggin break in all their cases and it's driving Dean insane. Why now in the middle of summer, where the heat crawls over his skin and sinks its claws into his spine. There's so much humidity that he's actually had to forgo his jacket and roll the windows down in the impala just to get a decent breeze. It feels good, great in fact and he wants to close his eyes and just feel the air rush over him like Sammy is in the passenger seat.

They hit a town not a half hour later off the freeway, it's a small thing, barely a city and the road goes pretty much all the way through. Finding a motel is easy, avoiding the heat is the hard part. Inside the room with double beds it feels like no one's cracked a window in ages it, the air smells musty and the temperature must be twice what it is outside. Dean throws his bag down and groans, a long drawn out thing that makes Sam roll his eyes.

"You know what I'm going to say."

"Sammy, shut it, there's no way I'm sitting by the pool like some tourist."

"Come on Dean, the news has been quiet, Bobby hasn't called and it's the first time in a long while we haven't been risking our lives just stepping into town."

Dean unzips his duffle bag rather loudly and shakes his head.

"Alright, but you're going to wish you'd joined me," the younger teases and goes to the bathroom to change.

Shoving the bag to the end of the bed Dean just flops down on top of the mattress, somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice tells him that if he just lays there and doesn't move he'll cool down. Time to put that theory to the test he thinks. His face is half buried into the scratchy comforter and he hears Sam try to entice him once more before leaving. The door finally closes and blessed silence reigns.

For all of five minutes that is.

An unnatural breeze shifts through the room and the sound of feathers rustling lets Dean know he's not alone.

"What are you doing," the gruff voice questions his methods.

"Melting."

"You do not appear to be transitioning from a solid to a liquid."

Dean laughs into the sheets, "Thank you captain obvious."

"I see, you were not being serious."

"Bingo."

Shifting around Dean looks at the angel standing between the two beds and immediately feels five times warmer than he did before.

"How can you be wearing a trench coat and suit in this weather?"

Cas looks down at his clothing then back, "This is what I always wear."

"Yeah, and you're making me warm just looking at you, at least take off the coat."

The angel gives him a curious stare before obliging and neatly folding and setting it at the end of the bed. Dean nods and then returns to his earlier experiment.

"Is this what you do when it is warm?"

"Yes."

Cas hums in response before seating himself on the edge of the bed, Dean peaks up at him.

"Why not join Sam?"

"Ugh! Did he put you up to this? He did, didn't he?"

"He did not but I do believe swimming might be a preferable way to cool off,"

"You gotta be kidding me, and now the angel is ragging on me about it! Fine. But you're coming with me."

Cas opens his mouth to politely decline but Dean just points a finger at him and makes a face. He relents and sits quietly while the hunter shuffles around the room. When he emerges from the bathroom, in just shorts he starts to think that maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

"You're not going to the pool looking like that." Dean states.

"But-"

"At least a T-shirt and shorts."

There's a few moments of tense silence before Cas stands up and Dean has to blink his eyes a couple of times because suddenly Cas is standing in a plain white T-shirt and khaki shorts. First thing Dean notices is how thin Cas is, second is just how pale he is and he hopes that angels don't sunburn easy.

"Alright let's go."

Sam sports a big goofy grin when he sees them and Dean make a note to hide his brother's laptop later. All three of them sit in chairs around a covered table and Cas seems to shrink ever so slightly into his.

"Cas you need more sun," Sam remarks with a smile.

Dean laughs at the angel's slight glare and settles back further into his chair. If he hadn't known better, that moment of ease and rest, well, it almost felt like they were just three friends on an extended road trip around the US. They spend the day by the pool, Sam takes the big step and swims first, the water is alarmingly colder than he thought it was. Dean swims later but for the most part they rest, soak up the sun and when finally they lure Cas to sit at the edge with his legs in the water, does the day seem all the more complete.

At the room, with the sun dipping low and Sam is taking a shower, Dean asks how Cas had been able to stay so long without being pulled away. Cas merely replied that he had finished all his tasks relatively fast and chosen to spend his extra time with them. Dean smirks and gathers his clothes up.

"Dean, I have to go but," he pauses, looking nervous before continuing, "if you would allow it, I would like to kiss you."

The hunter stares for a second, it's not like he's asked to be kissed by guy all the time but then then again it's Cas and he gives a sharp nod. They shuffle closer, an awkward sort of meeting and it's a light press of lips before Cas flits away and the air smells cleaner in the room.


	5. Envy

**(A/N) **T for this chapter, I guess? mentions of sex and guy smooching.

_Envy_

* * *

It's just basic human need, the need for companionship, closeness and it means nothing, that's what he tells himself. They drift through towns and Dean hits a streak of luck at the bars but it doesn't sit well in his stomach and leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. In the very back of his mind, at the very edge of his shoulders he feels that stare and knows exactly who is watching. Deans wishes he wouldn't and Cas only shows up in his dreams long enough to tell him he has to be across the world for a long assignment. Alone again he thinks when the dream world rips away.

It hurts and yet he knows it shouldn't feel this way. Cas leaves Dean to commit his sins and he wants to pull those women away, make Dean pay attention to him. He wants to be those women as strange as it sounds and as strange as it feels to him. To be thought of in such a way, to be intimate with a mortal who had so quickly become the object of his affections and more recently, to his surprise, his desires. Mating wasn't unheard of among angels; in fact it was a lengthy dance of wing gestures and pheromones. Unfortunately, Cas had never actually heard of a human participating in such rituals but, maybe Dean would understand.

Many times, in the past weeks has Cas yearned to be down there with Dean but his superiors have clutched tight the reigns that bind him to his duties and now he must prove he has not strayed. Oh but he has and in the worst way, he is envious of mortals, he is envious of their flippant ways and intimate dealings. His thoughts are plagued by unholy ideas and there is only one person he would share them with. They drive him mad and he cannot stand by any longer. The tasks given to him will not hold his attention for much longer; Castiel purges demons from god worshipping humans and strengthens the borders between hell and the mortal plane.

He does not wait to check in before descending on the hunters, who like always are holed up in a questionable decorated motel. The time differences catch him off guard for a moment, when he appears in the room it is dark and the brothers are sleeping. Breathing a sigh Cas stands at the end of Dean's bed, he would have hovered for a few minutes just watching except the bed creaks and whines when Dean suddenly snaps up. In the sliver of moonlight peeking from the drawn curtains, a knife glints dangerously in the hunter's hands.

"Cas?" Dean questions, his voice is scratchy with sleep.

"Hello."

"What are you doing creeping on my bed like the boogeyman?"

"I did not mean to startle you, I just arrived from a time zone where it is midday."

Dean hums and sticks the knife back under his pillow. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits back against the headboard.

"So, how's being a trained monkey?"

Cas resists the urge to roll his eyes in a very un-angelic way, "I have finished what's been asked if me."

"I see, do you want a sticker?"

"No, Dean, I would like to know if you plan to continue pursuing relationships with women you do not know."

Dean is just a bit speechless at the angel's sudden interrogation and to his chagrin; Sam sits up, pulls his pants on, grabs the keys to the impala and leaves without a word. He wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, the angel sounds like a slighted girlfriend. Dean stops at that and reaches over to turn the lamp on between the beds.

"What is this about Cas?"

The angel gives him a face, one that is annoyed he didn't answer and he walks over to sit at the edge of Sam's bed.

"I want to know if you're going to-"

"Cas, sometimes a guy just has to get his rocks off."

He watches Cas look away, lips pursed in a thin line of displeasure. What in hell was going on?

"I..." Cas stops, as if not sure he should even say what's on his mind.

"Out with it, you've already scarred Sammy I'm sure, let's hear it."

"I do not like that you find pleasure with those strange women."

Dean exhales through his nose, there it was, their socially awkward angel was being forward with him finally and it was a bit like getting slapped in the face.

"Cas are you being overly protective or something, because I can-"

"I do not like them touching you," there's a slight growl to the angel's voice and Dean tries to ignore the little curl of heat through his body at hearing Cas sound so territorial.

"So I guess you don't like me touching them either."

The angel looks him straight in the eye, "No."

"Shit, Cas, you got it bad don't you," Dean mutters, but he knows that the same is true for himself. Just thinking of someone else, anyone touching Cas, it makes something deep and primal rear its head and claw through his stomach.

Castiel stands and comes close, close enough that when he bends over Dean their faces are mere inches apart.

"I do not like anyone touching you, Dean. I want to be the only one to touch you."

Chills crawl up and down Dean's spine, Castiel's eyes are dark and menacing, but in a way that promises time won't matter in a few moments.

"Cas, don't start something you're not willing to finish."

The angel leans froward, till their lips brush and he speaks softly, "Dean, there will be no finish, because you and I will never be done."

Dean growls softly because now it feels like Cas is more than a good little angel, it feels like the heavenly creature is pouring out his emotions into the room and filling it up till all Dean wants to do is breath it in and never breath out. He reaches up and clutches at the angel's hair and pulls him forward, Cas kisses him with such confidence Dean barely hesitates before slipping his tongue into the other's mouth. The angel follows suit and within seconds he is grasping Dean close, like he doesn't want this to ever end. Though humans do have to breath and Dean pulls back, sucking in air and looks Castiel over.

"You realize now Cas that, that is going to happen again."

To his amusement the angel looks like he's blushing in the low light and straightens, "I certainly hope so Dean."

He looks almost embarrassed by what had just happened and fidgets with his coat.

"Cas."

"Yes?"

"I think Sam would really like to come back in and sleep."

The angel nods, "Ah, yes I should take my leave then."

"G'night Cas."

"Good night Dean."

When quiet reigns again Dean flicks the light off and a few minutes later Sam scuttles in and reclaims his bed.

"Seriously Dean, you had to go and corrupt an angel."

"Shut up and go to sleep Sammy."

They don't talk about it in the morning and leave town by noon.


	6. Lust

**(A/N) **M for this chapter, for obvious reasons I think.

_Lust_

* * *

There's a word for what they're doing but Cas doesn't want to think of it. He can see it in Dean's eyes just as clearly as he can feel it shivering and writhing beneath his own skin. It tastes sweet, the anticipation and then Dean twists his hands again where they're buried in the sensitive feathers of his wings. Cas shudders, exhales through his nose, what they've gotten into is dangerous, it's unexplored territory and maybe they'll make sense of it later but right now there's only one thing that comes out sharp and clear through the fog of hesitance, lust.

Lust.

Dean leans in close, sweeps his eyes over Cas before kissing the angel. Maybe it's chaste for a reason, maybe it's slow and exploring because any sudden movements might set their world off kilter and break the carefully crafted dream. Dean speaks softly, his lips moving to form words against the angel's lips.

"Put your tie on the handle out there."

"Why De-"

"Because Cas, we're gonna do things and Sam doesn't need to know."

There are not many things that make Castiel, caption of a garrison, angel of the lord, nervous. But when Dean talks like that, when his voice is dark and rough with promises of things to come it curls down his spine in lazy swirls. He learned pretty early on that Dean is a man of action so he nods and his tie disappears and that delicious tingle is back when the hunter drags his hands through the feathers again. Yes he should feel ashamed, indulging in such sinful acts but it's Dean, he's special, he is more than just a mortal he is blessed and cursed and everything Castiel wants.

Two calloused hands come up to frame the angel's face and Dean tries not to give himself time to think, if he thinks then there will be consequences. He'll know, just from the look in Castiel's eye that this, what they're doing by pressing their bodies together is something new but dammit noes not the time to think twice on every decision. That's why he can't deliberate and council with his already messed up brain because then all the reasons he's doing this for will be wrong. He doesn't want to be wrong.

Castiel is stiff, unsure of what he can and can't touch, a body is sacred he knows this. It's just that with Dean beside him, their bodies turned toward each other he wants more. Dean can see it, clear as day, he's got experience and the horizontal mambo is his best dance. He gets up and yanks his shirt over his head and yeah, Castiel is watching which makes it all the better as he unbuttons his jeans. Cas is watching him, it feels warm, makes his skin tingle and his heart pound in excitement.

If Castiel had to pick one feature he liked about Dean, just one, well, he would pick Dean's eyes. They are more telling than words and when he stares into them he finds that most of his thoughts sort of drift away as he tries to decide just what shade they are. When he looks at Dean's eyes right now, this moment as the man comes forward bare as the day he was born he would call this shade something akin to a poisonous apple. It's a startling green but underneath it has a darker purpose, one that both entices and cautions and Castiel blinks when he realizes Dean is no longer next to him but stretched out on the bed.

The lamp light casts a glow over the bed and Cas can see the small scars and the starkness of his handprint on the hunter's shoulder. His eyes travel without meaning to, Dean is flesh and bone; he was created by his father and the thought that of all the instances, of all the joined couples in the world Dean would be a result it makes him sit in awe of his father's work for a moment. Dean notices the angel's distant stare and he clears his throat, it's a bit hard to get the mood going when your angel has zoned out at the foot of the bed.

"Cas, c'mere."

His voice seems to do the trick and Castiel blinks, his eyes focusing on the obvious need of his lover and he rises to join the hunter at the guidance of Dean's hands. Dragging the angel down Dean revels in how his wings flutter and flair as they kiss again. It's no longer chaste, its need and desire that have finally come pouring out and Dean groans when Castiel lays a hand over his marked shoulder. The jolt of pleasure, or pure want rushes through his body and then Castiel makes a noise when he worries at the angel's bottom lip and it's back, all of it, the lust pulses just under his skin. When they part he's panting and Castiel looks so disheveled that he wants more, more, more.

"Get undressed."

Oh that voice again and Castiel complies, blinking his clothes away into a mess on the floor, he doesn't have the patience or time to fold them, not with the way he feels right now. If only he had known just how addictive it was to be touched and kissed by Dean. He shivers when rough hands frame his chest and slide down, the pressure, the physical manifestation of his lust aches between his legs and his wings ruffle.

Dean kisses him again and again, almost distracting him from where the hunter's hands wander and he keens softly when they finally grasp his erection. Without consent his hips buck forward and he has to look, has to see and remember how Dean can make him feel this way. He sits back and hums in pleasure when Dean mutters an affirmation of his choice and then the hunter changes it, he grabs both of their cocks and in one hand strokes them together.

"Dean," his voice falters for only a moment, one that he can see reflected in his lover's eyes because they go impossibly dark like the other side of the moon.

Cas's hands twist into the sheets as he tries to control the way his hips roll eagerly into Dean's hand. The neediness, the kiss swollen look of Castiel's lips, make Dean moan low, know he was the one who put the angel in such a state. He did this, it's his handiwork all over Casiel and it feels right, it feel like it can't be anyone else, no one else but Cas and him. The angel moans softly and Dean feels like the air gets punched out of his chest when Castiel wraps a hand around his, there's an underlying power simmering beneath Castiel's skin that licks at their skin.

The hunter watches as Castiel throws his head back, wings extending out and the feathers ruffle up and he groans at the sight. He looks, for lack of a better word, divine. The pace is quick, quick enough that Dean can barely hold his own against the ancient creature when Castiel grinds his hips down almost too hard, the friction between them delicious and he comes in thick ropes all over their hands and Castiel gasps and shudders above him. He can feel the slickness of Castiel's release, warm and sticky and it's perfect.

For a while no one talks, they just pant and even though Castiel catches his breath before Dean the hunter doesn't protest when he gets up. He doesn't complain when Castiel cleans them or gets dressed but he does catch the angel by the wrist and drag him back into to the bed and under the covers.


End file.
